


For all our days

by kalika_999



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Cabin Fic, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscarriage, Omega Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24197860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Bucky tends to disappear at times, when he comes back everything is usually fine.  Not this time.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 100
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	For all our days

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seinmit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seinmit/gifts).



It's not unusual for Steve to lose track of Bucky's whereabouts. Neither one of them are entirely comfortable in their Stark approved cabin yet. It's much too opulent and indulgent for either of them to consider it a rustic hideaway, but it was definitely located somewhere isolated enough for his omega’s comfort as he tries to put himself together again. A few years had already passed and still their home felt too large to them, full of spaces to tuck away in, an endless forest to explore. Steve is sure that Bucky's managed to keep a nook or two still hidden for himself, his scent overtaking every bit of the place that Steve can’t be bothered to complain that it’s not their bedroom that’s keeping the sole concentration of it. He doesn't mind though, Bucky has his good days and won’t begrudge him the bad ones where he aims to be left alone.

So, when Bucky goes off somewhere out the back door shortly after breakfast and is missing for a simple lunch of grilled cheese accompanying a bowl of tomato soup, Steve isn't entirely concerned. He's curious, of course, but not worried.

He goes about his daily chores for the rest of the day once he gets the chili started in the slow cooker, and makes sure they have enough wood for their evening fire. The frost begins to creep at sundown and age old kinks that were long gone continue to haunt his limbs. 

There’s still no sign of Bucky and he’s been known to take off for a day or two, Steve’s not too worried outwardly. Inside he is, it had taken some getting used to in the beginning especially with his instincts pressing just under his skin, but with all the processing Bucky’s gone through, Steve hides it the best he can. As long as he comes back to him, figures out on his own how they used to be together and still wants to continue that, he doesn’t want to cause any ripples. He only relies on what they have to be the tether between. 

Deciding to turn in early after dinner, Steve climbs the stairs up to the second floor holding too many bedrooms and is entirely surprised to see Bucky curled up on their bed.

"Bucky?" He whispers, almost the same way when the mask fell away, like they’ve been apart for years all over again instead of just a mere day. 

Bucky lifts his head from the pile of pillows slightly and stares at him blearily. 

"Hey." He murmurs after a distant moment, dropping his head back to the pillow and Steve lingers on his dark hair swept across the cream of the pillowcase. In that brief exchange, Steve sees that his eyes are puffy and red, as if he's been crying. He approaches their bed quietly, tactful not to disturb the scene too much, despite his height and bulk.

"Bucky?" His tone is gentler this time, but still questioning. He doesn't move too much and he sits on the edge of the mattress, hesitantly reaching a hand out to rest on the side of his hip. Bucky flinches away and Steve withdraws as if he had been burnt. It doesn’t matter how many times it happens, it still hurts.

He tries hard not to show himself, aware how much Bucky’s going through still. He draws in a slow breath and lets himself exhale. "I missed you today, you know. Made one of your favorites for lunch too.” 

Bucky nods lightly into the pillow, his grey blue eyes unfocused and staring off at the wall of books just past Steve's shoulder. It’s then he notices that he's shaking slightly, a tremble under his oversized hoodie. He grabs the quilt resting at the foot of the bed and drags it up over his prone form. Bucky’s hand reveals itself from underneath the pillows and grasps at the blanket, holding it close to his cheek. Steve's brow furrows as he takes in the lost look on his omega's face.

He tries again. "Buck, come on please. Talk to me? Do you need something?" He's imagining something horrible crossing his mind, something he’s buried so deep that resurfaces at the most inopportune times, it’s the only thing he can think of that would cause him to react this way. 

"No,” He barely mumbles out, like the effort was too much, closing his eyes. "Please go away."

"Now you know I can't do that, Buck." Steve replies firmly, his jaw setting. "We talked about this, you always hide in the bedroom when you don’t want to be left alone no matter what you say in the moment. Whatever's the matter, this room’s always been the space we share and we deal with whatever the issue is together, as partners. I wish we could do that all the time, but I know we can’t right now."

After he had screwed up the first proposal and missed picking out the obvious signs that Bucky was on a really bad day and in turn was going to get a really painful rejection to go with his grand scheme of things. The second time, when he was finally ready to try again, it went better and after that, he always fought a little harder to keep the rules of communication open the best way Bucky could tolerate it and the rest was up to him. Usually it worked out fine.

It made even the most upsetting things, a tiny bit more..tolerable.

"Just leave, Steve." Bucky snaps, no real heat behind his words. "I don't care what we talked about, I don’t want to see you right now."

Steve's temper flares even as his heart drops to his stomach. This is it, that playing house is too much, that Bucky decides he can’t do this after being apart for so long and with all the abuse he’s endured, he’s just too much of a different person. He’s heard it all from his lover’s lips, and after he’s always promised it’s just his head fucking with him all over again. But it lingers at the back of Steve’s mind. He was never enough back in the 40’s, maybe he still isn’t in the present. That he was going to let go of his hand exactly the way Steve couldn’t hold on to his. “It’s your choice, bonded or not, to get rid of me. But I’m not going just because you tell me to.”

Steve's anger sparks Bucky's temper, they’re like a flame igniting a pool of gasoline when they want to be. He sits up, struggling as he does, and gives him a glare so fierce, Steve blinks in a flicker of hesitation. His haggard look does nothing to lessen the winter chill in his tone. "I'm not leaving you, idiot! Sometimes I wonder if all the brains you got shrunk when the muscles kicked in." His voice cracks a little and tears well in his eyes. "It actually fucking terrifies me how much I love you because when you love something, losing ‘em is so much more harder to deal with.” 

Those tears finally spill over and roll down his cheeks. It's a sight that always scares Steve, to see Bucky cry, because all he wants to do is protect him from any amount of pain he endures. 

"Losing?" Steve's baffled now, his forehead creased in confusion. He shakes his head. "Bucky, you're not losing anything, we’re here together. We’re safe."

"That's not true!" He argues as he lays down again, almost seemingly too exhausted to hold himself up. "I've already lost it. It's gone."

He curls up in a tighter ball against the pillows and Steve's sorting through various means he’s had success on help, though this moment seems like he won’t manage to find an option. It’s just the way he’s reading him then, tears and the despair radiating off too strongly. He drags a hand over his mouth, the coarseness of his beard reminding him of all the time they’ve been able to have together again finally. It reminds him that no matter what Bucky’s recalled, Steve will be right there for him no matter what it is. He climbs further onto the bed, kneeling close and gently resting a hand on the side of Bucky’s head.

"Bucky, what‘s going on? What did you lose?” Desperation seeps into his tone with a healthy dose of fear. "Sweetheart, talk to me."

Bucky looks up at him with wild eyes, he’s so sad and slowly pulling himself into despair. "The baby." He says barely above a whisper. "I lost the baby."

Steve's shell shocked. The baby? His mind isn’t working right as his hearing hollows out, but he reaches for Bucky’s hand and grips it tight, tighter still when he tries to pull away. He struggles when the fight kicks up, a kick at his leg that should hurt but Steve’s numb. He continues to hold him. 

"Let go!" Bucky yells, almost hysteric. "Let me go!"

"No." Steve replies simply, taking advantage of the obviously fragile state his mate is in to pull him close and wrap arms around him as tight as he possibly can. Bucky makes a noise, almost like a snarl and struggles as best he can against him, somewhere in there he tells him again and again how he lost the baby.  _ Their baby. _ Hot tears smear against his skin, and Steve keeps still until Bucky stops making any noise whatsoever and only collapses against him, shaking. His arms stay firm and tight around him to remind him he’s safe and protected, that Bucky can feel the steady beat of his heart to be sure it’s all real, he makes sure of this despite both of them now simultaneously coping with the blow.

"We’ll be okay." He hears himself say into Bucky’s hair. There’s a room next to them that they’ve been decorating, a room with a crib and furniture they’d built together. A room full of their love and happiness. None of the team even knew yet and now in hindsight, Steve’s glad for that. He knows he’s not sure he can face their expressions of concern and their own brand of grief, it would be worse for Bucky. Everything would be worse for him.

Bucky's sobs quieted, but his hand is still fisted at the front of Steve’s shirt. "I didn't mean for it to happen." He whispers into his broad chest. "I didn't. I went for a walk, maybe it was the air, you told me to take it easy, what if Hydra- “

His voice cracks and Steve tightens his arms painfully around him more. He knows there’s a lot they don’t know about, and there’s no way he can quell Bucky’s anxieties of being unsure. He knew this was all terrifying for the both of them, even if he retired from being the Captain, he still went out for bigger jobs. The thought of children never came up, especially when Bucky wasn’t sure about himself to even deal with Steve’s presence from time to time. They both assumed with all the damage he’d gone through, even his body needed time to heal through it all to even consider it. Then it happened and well, now Steve supposes it was too early. They know at least it can happen, if Bucky ever wants to after all this. He won’t ask despite the chance. It had been a shock, but he saw the way Bucky prided himself as they did the construction, and the way they talked about baby names: he was excited as much as he was terrified. At night Steve smiled as Bucky shared some of his fears and apprehensions, in return he shared his own thoughts of being an inadequate father. They’d sort their thoughts out and support one another and then in the end they made love, falling asleep content with just being together.

So he knows, as much of a blow as this was, as much hope and happiness and excitement they had put into this baby he’d never met, and was now never going to meet, there was a chance they’d be blessed again. They just had to believe in it. 

The Fist of Hydra wouldn’t have emotions, wouldn’t care about attachment. But this was his Bucky, the omega time could not keep away; he learned to let his feelings back in, learned to be Bucky Barnes again, and it's breaking his heart right now that a life was snatched away from him that he had been creating.

"It's revenge." Bucky says against him. "Revenge for all the lives I've taken."

Steve sighs, because at this point he can’t help himself. He hates the guilt that Bucky still carries, guilt that shouldn’t burden him. "It's not. None of that was your fault, Buck. Everyone knows you’d have never done any of that if they hadn’t done the things they did to you.” 

Bucky's weight sags against him. He knows he doesn't believe him, he gets it despite how frustrating it can be. Steve’s stubborn anyway, so as long as Bucky thinks he’s guilty, he’s going to be there to tell him it was never his fault. He’s going to use every breath he takes to make sure he knows he’s allowed the happiness he so sorely deserves and more. 

His hand strokes through soft dark hair and his mind races with questions about what exactly happened, if they need to call a doctor just to make sure everything is completely okay, but now isn’t the time as long as Bucky is breathing, and trying his darndest to keep himself buried against Steve’s neck where he’s most content when stressed. 

For now, right there in their bed, Steve will hold him and share in his grief. They’ll heal, like they always have. 

Together.


End file.
